


Press Your Fingers Against the Wound

by dimplelegacy



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 5+1 Things, Kissing, M/M, Post-season 7, Shiro Has Lots of Feelings, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-16
Updated: 2018-10-16
Packaged: 2019-08-03 00:19:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16315478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dimplelegacy/pseuds/dimplelegacy
Summary: “But,” She frowns. “He can’t be happy if you’re not. He knows it, I know it, every person on the team knows it too. Somehow you seem to be the only one who hasn’t caught up with it. I think you should give yourself some time to think about that.”___There are five times when Shiro caresses the scar on Keith's cheek. And one more.





	Press Your Fingers Against the Wound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [acier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/acier/gifts).



> This is Acier's super duper late birthday fic which I promised to write on time but... (*ﾟﾛﾟ)
> 
> WELL ANYWAY, big thanks to Mia and Alex for making this fic readable!   
> Acier, I love you, despite my tardiness, you know I do. So I hope this fic is at least somewhat enjoyable for you. It was one of the most stubborn fics I have ever had the pleasure and displeasure to write.
> 
> Thank you for reading, peeps!

 

 

I.

  
  


 

 

 

 

 

Shiro was used to the silence and the simple, drowning feeling of emptiness around him.

 

Now, being inside a body is strange. Chatter around him is unfamiliar.

 

The presence of Keith beside him is not. Just Keith — determination, grief, desperation, anger, strength — everything he is, was one of the rare things he could feel inside the Black Lion. Sometimes, Shiro clung to all of those feelings so desperately that now he is afraid he stole some of that fiery energy of Keith’s to keep himself alive, sane.

 

Now he can see. And seeing the paladins’ faces, their smiles, is a soothing balm on his rattled soul. But seeing Keith is something more, as always.

 

Shiro clings to stay awake by looking at him carefully — the black hair that has grown, how it curls in the back of his neck, his sharper jaw, and the indigo eyes that have so much more depth than the last time he saw them.

 

He doesn’t know what has happened and he’s dying to ask but at the same time, he knows it’s better not to. Because there are bits and more bits that he remembers; they poke the walls of his brain like sharp objects thrown against enemies. He knows he has done something unforgivable and talking about it now would bend his mind even more than it is already bending.

 

He looks at the scar. The scar he made.

 

“Is it real?”

 

When Keith turns his head to look at him, Shiro realizes he has said those words out loud. From the corner of his eye, he sees how others have stopped chatting and are now keenly watching at him.

 

The night air is cool and the wind makes Keith’s dark hair move beautifully. It distracts Shiro from everything else around him.

 

Keith touches his arm, leaning towards his space. “Hey. You should sleep a little more. You’re okay. It’s real.”

 

Shiro doesn’t think Keith understood his question correctly but he can’t blame himself. He barely remembers what talking with your own mouth means anymore.

 

He doesn’t know how he gains the strength — maybe the physical pull towards Keith is just that strong — but he’s moving his hand slowly up and it lands a bit clumsily on Keith’s cheek. His fingers swipe against the long scar and he hopes he could erase it with his touch. Erase his mistake, which is opening up in front of him like a deep black hole.

 

Keith’s eyes widen in shock at his touch.

 

“Is it real?” Shiro purposely asks out loud this time. Black spots are filling his vision.

 

The hole is swallowing him.

 

“Shiro!” He hears Keith’s urgent voice. “What’s happe—  _ Shiro! _ ”

 

Like many times before, Shiro hopes he could answer but something is drawing him away.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  
  
  


II.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
His grandfather once said that when you come back from the dead, you are never truly alive anymore. He was a war veteran so Shiro believed him as he got older. But the first time his grandfather said it, Shiro was only ten years old and when his grandfather saw how much those words hurt his grandson, he ruffled Shiro’s hair and corrected himself.

 

“You turn into an angel walking on earth,” he said, grinning. “You see everything a bit differently and small worries won’t trouble you anymore.”

 

In a way he was right. But mostly he was lying.

 

Shiro understands him now, more than he ever did. After waking in the pod, for days he feels like he’s sleep-walking. Part of him wants someone to pinch him and see if he falls into pieces or just says “ow”.

 

He doesn’t feel like an angel, despite his hair now having such a strange, extraordinary color. He sees himself as more like a dead soul whose place isn’t anywhere anymore.

 

He does his best to focus on the trip to Earth. He keeps to himself mostly, watches the team dynamic between Keith and the other paladins. They look good together and they work together better than ever before. Shiro doesn’t want to listen to the small whisper in his head that suggests their team is more solid than when he was the leader — he isn’t sure if he’s ready to admit something like that yet.

 

Sometimes Keith turns to look at him, questioning if he’s making a good decision. But only sometimes and Shiro couldn’t be more proud of him.

 

Time has affected them all but more Keith than anyone else. The two years in Quantum Abyss have changed him so much that sometimes it makes Shiro look twice whenever he sees Keith.

 

There’s no boy anymore. His body is the body of a man and when he looks at Shiro, his eyes tell even an older tale than what his body shows.

 

When his eyes catch Shiro’s, the seat of Black Lion between them, Shiro burns for reasons he can’t name. Or doesn’t dare to.

 

“Shiro?” Keith asks him, turning in his seat.

 

Shiro stares at the almost completely healed scar on his cheek.

 

_ Regret. _

 

“Can we talk for a bit?”

 

Keith glances at the screen and the quiet, never-ending blackness outside the Lion. “Yeah, sure.” He puts the Lion on autopilot. “Guys, I’m going to step away for a bit.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Mhm…”

 

Pidge is the only one who doesn’t answer but they both can hear a distant soundtrack of whichever game she is occupied with.

 

Shiro glances at Krolia as he and Keith step outside the cockpit. Her eyes are not harsh but the retentive curiousness in them makes Shiro flash her a small, apologetic smile.

 

She gives him a nod, smiling back.

 

As the door to the cockpit closes behind them, Shiro doesn’t hesitate another moment to grab Keith’s hand.

 

“What?” Keith asks, confused by Shiro’s urgency.

 

“I...”

 

Why are the words leaving him every time he looks at Keith in the eyes?

 

Keith steps closer to him and the way he is waiting for Shiro to gather himself and say what he has to, immediately calms him.

 

“Keith,” he says, sliding his fingers against Keith’s wrist. “When you said that we saved each other… Maybe it was true, a long time ago. But we both know that’s not the case anymore.”

 

“Shiro—”

 

“No.” Shiro squeezes his wrist and the movement shuts Keith up rather effectively. “I’m alive because of you. You have given me everything.  _ Everything.  _ And all I can give you is— I’m sorry.” His voice sounds a sandpaper. He has made many mistakes in his life, too many to count. But this mistake feels like something else, something he can never overcome and shouldn’t either.

 

Hurting the one you love the most in the world is something he never imagined he would or could do.

 

Fortunately, Keith stays quiet. Unfortunately, Shiro doesn’t know how to continue and Keith’s accepting, patient silence doesn’t help him. There are no words he can say because no words will be enough. Keith’s presence beside him is a blessing that weighs like a sin. He doesn’t deserve it.

 

The scar draws his fingers close like a magnet. He carefully touches it, barely pressing his fingertips against it. Keith looks self-conscious for a moment —  _ why? —  _ and his gaze shifts to the floor before looking straight at Shiro again. He doesn’t reject the unsure touch.

 

Shiro exhales and lets himself stroke Keith’s cheek. Even after two years and with a scar marring the skin, it feels soft.

 

“I never wanted to hurt you.” He swallows. “Keith, I never— I—”

 

“I know,” Keith says with that same acceptance. There’s no fear, no anger, not even the regret Shiro himself feels every day. “You didn’t.”

  
  


“It was me,” Shiro argues. At least, he feels like it was — it’s impossible to convince him otherwise because he has the clone’s memories and body. He remembers how it happened and what it felt like to hurt Keith.

 

“Even if you were, I wouldn’t care.” It’s dangerous, the way Keith looks at him when he says those words. That is why Shiro drops his hand; so he won’t reach out more and never let Keith go. Keith seems unfazed by the gesture and continues, “I would do it again. And again. As many times as it would take.”

 

The memory hits him like a tide, almost like it’s clawing at his brain. 

 

_ Scratch. _

 

_ “How many times are you going to save me before this is over?” _

 

_ Scratch. _

 

Keith’s expression turns unsure because of Shiro’s silence.

 

“Sorry. I just remembered something,” he says. His eyes flutter, a mix of emotions washing over him.  “Even if I lived and died thousand times, I would never deserve someone like you.”

 

What makes him almost reach out again, is how Keith smiles at his words. “It’s not about deserving something or someone. We live in a chaotic universe where everything just happens,” Keith says. They stare at each other and after all the side-eyed glances Shiro has shot at Keith, when he was sure the other wasn’t looking, it feels incredibly intimate.

 

The moment is interrupted when Krolia steps out from the cockpit, looking apologetic.

 

“Keith, Allura is having a fit.”

 

“What?” Keith says with an exaggerated tone. His eyes shift to Shiro quickly before walking past him and Krolia back to his seat.

 

“Allura, it’s not my fault,” Shiro can hear him say. “He teleports where he wants.”

 

Krolia shoots him a look, and like the way his son looks at Shiro sometimes, he has no idea what that means.

 

“Thank you, Shiro.”

 

His back stiffens like a rubber band pulled taut. “For what?”

 

She shakes her head slightly, a forlorn smile on her lips. “I have missed almost two decades of my son’s life and I can imagine I have many people to thank for helping him, even if it was just to make him try a simulator.”

 

It’s evident that Keith has told Krolia about his past. Of course, he has. But it still makes Shiro feel a burst of warmth right under his lungs. Missing two years of Keith’s life will always feel bittersweet but he can’t find himself to regret losing him for that amount of time when it offered a second chance for mother and her son.

 

Suddenly Shiro feels so proud of Keith that he just wants to go back to the cockpit and look at him piloting.

 

He only shrugs his shoulders — a bad habit he has when proper words leave him.

 

There’s a flash of amusement on Krolia’s face. “I think you understand that what I’m trying to say is that I do owe my greatest thanks to you.”

 

“Keith has helped me a lot more than I have helped him.”

 

“Even if that’s true, it doesn’t make your deeds any less valuable. Please, Shiro. Accept my gratitude. Especially since I didn’t give it to the real you the first time.”

 

The silenced mention of the clone demands him to drop the topic as soon as possible. So he nods, smiling politely at Krolia. “Alright. I know better than to start arguing with someone who is the mother of Voltron’s leader and also a notable member of the Blade.”

 

Like her son, Krolia seems to cling to one particular part of his sentence. “You know Keith would let you lead in a heartbeat, don’t you? He thinks the world of you.”

 

_ He shouldn’t. _

 

“I think the world of him too,” Shiro says honestly. “That’s why I know he’s meant to do this. Besides…” he glances at his right shoulder. “...I don’t think I’ll be able to pilot for a while.”

 

“But that’s not what this is really about.” It’s not a question and Krolia isn’t trying to hide it. Her stare is piercing.

 

“Of course it isn’t. I have talked about this with Keith many times before.”

 

“Believe me, We both know he can seem distant and not very approachable. But he also makes people follow him. He’s determined and charismatic under all those prickles.” Her eyes shift to the door of the cockpit. “He got that from his father. And I know he has gotten more comfortable in his own skin. You can see it too.”

 

Shiro nods.

 

“But,” She frowns. “He can’t be happy if you’re not. He knows it, I know it, every person on the team knows it too. Somehow you seem to be the only one who hasn’t caught up with it. I think you should give yourself some time to think about that.”

 

With those words, she returns to the cockpit, leaving Shiro standing in the hallway, his heart pounding strangely.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


III.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
If Shiro could ever make a difference, he’d make sure Keith never has to say goodbye to anyone, especially Krolia.

 

The war is not fair to any of them, though. And he feels a surge of pride after Keith lets go of his mother, breaking their embrace and turns back to Shiro and others — he looks strong, determined, trusting. Shiro realizes he himself has slowly — as slowly as this life has devoured pieces of him — forgotten the difference between “goodbye” and “see you again”, while Keith has learned to trust in the latter.

 

Shiro can still remember the younger boy, right before the launch for Kerberos, hugging him like he was never going to see him again.

 

This Keith is not that kid anymore.

 

“You okay?” Shiro makes sure, maybe more for himself than Keith.

 

Keith scratches his right cheek and Shiro tries not to wince at it. Keith is too distracted to notice, his eyes looking ahead, pondering. Then he says, resolutely, “I am. I know she’ll be fine. She can do anything.”

 

It takes a moment for Shiro to react to his words. Then he feels a wide smile spread on his face. “Yeah. You two are similar like that.”

 

Keith shrugs like he tries to brush it off. His movements are slow but Shiro is too aware of how he shifts his balance on his right foot, leaning into Shiro’s space. He can only blink when he feels fingers graze his palm, the warmth seeping through the gloves — the sensation makes his whole spine tense with an embarrassing excitement.

 

Keith’s fingers feel good. They always have.

 

“Your hand is cold,” Keith says with a soft tone.

 

“It’s the glove,” Shiro answers him because he doesn’t know what else to say when Keith’s hand is holding his own.

 

“Can I—” he pauses and Shiro feels his fingers twitch. “My— the scar. It’s itching.”

 

“Oh.” That must have been why he was scratching it. Shiro wants to apologize, for the tenth time out loud and for the hundred times in his head. He gently raises his hand and Keith’s fingers let him go. He pushes Keith’s hair back from his face to see the scar better. It looks slightly irritated. “You should ask Allura or Coran if they have some kind of lotion for it. Or Lance. The healing pod is one option too.”

 

“I’m not going to get into the healing pod because of an itch.” Keith frowns at him. “But—”

 

Again, he moves slowly, like Shiro is a scared animal that needs to be treated with care. His fingers touch his hand once more. Shiro watches them press against the back of his hand, the motion making him cup Keith’s cheek.

 

“Keith?” Shiro tries to keep his voice even.

 

“This helps,” Keith murmurs and Shiro’s breath hitches when Keith closes his eyes. “It helps a lot.”

 

If Shiro moved his thumb just a bit, he would be able to brush the corner of Keith’s eye. He marvels the way his palm fits against Keith’s cheek, covering almost the whole right side of his face. The scar is hidden, safe under his touch.

 

It makes him feel important, a man who can protect Keith in return, even after failing him.

 

“Are you sure? I’m not hurting you?”

 

“You’re not. It soothes the itch.” Keith’s eyes flutter open and when he meets Shiro’s stare, there is a faint shade of pink on his cheekbones.

 

“Oh.”

 

They stand there for a while, stalling while others walk a long way ahead of them. It feels like carving a small piece of time just for the two of them.

 

With his hand cradling Keith’s cheek, Shiro feels more connected to this reality than ever before.

 

It’s quite a power for someone to have over him and Shiro can only wait and see what Keith will do with it.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
IV.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
The Garrison uniform makes him feel strange. He had to ask for a size bigger. It hugs his shoulders differently and when he checks himself in the mirror before stepping outside in the hallway, the white hair doesn't seem to fit the dark color of the uniform either.

 

In a way, it feels tranquil, though. He never thought that becoming a pilot while fighting for illness and trying to gain both respect and authority from the upper officers would feel simple. Now it does and there is some peace in wearing the uniform again.

 

He heads out towards the conference room and isn't surprised when he sees Keith's unruly mop of black hair, a stark contrast against the orange jacket and pants he's wearing. His back is facing Shiro so it gives him the perfect opportunity to sneak behind him. Shiro's fist connects gently with his forearm and he can see Keith suppress a jump — convincingly enough for anyone else but him. 

 

"You can't blame me for being jumpy after being stranged in deep space," Keith says defensively after seeing Shiro's smirk.

 

"You're right. But I can blame you for not keeping your guard up."

 

"We're home," Keith says it in such a simple, matter-of-fact way that Shiro forgets his response.

 

His fingers speak for him, sweeping across Keith's right cheek swiftly. Keith blinks, seemingly always surprised when Shiro touches his scar. Maybe Shiro should be surprised by his growing habit too but he simply doesn't always have the energy to backtrack his fingers that want to reach towards the current leader of Voltron like shadows reach towards the horizon.      

 

"Are you ready?"

 

Keith sighs heavily, pondering for a second. "I guess I have to be," he answers in the end, following Shiro's equally heavy footsteps.

 

"We all have to. That means you're not alone at least."

 

"Yeah." Keith smiles at him, in a crooked way that makes Shiro's knees tingle, almost like they can't hold his weight as well as before. "And it means a lot."    

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


V.

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
Self-blame has followed Shiro for years now but it has been at its strongest during the months after he was pulled out from Black’s consciousness.

 

Adam’s death wasn’t his fault but the last words they said to each other years ago weigh on Shiro like any other mistake. Maybe if he had done something more, Adam’s awful fate could have been avoided.

 

Somehow, Keith knows his track of thought — right after telling Shiro how he is sorry about Adam, his palm pushes itself against Shiro’s chest, resembling a shove.

 

“Don’t think like that,” he says with a fierceness that makes Shiro shiver. It’s almost scary how well the other paladin knows him by now.

 

Then, what feels like a final straw, happens.

 

Maybe if he had done more, Voltron wouldn't have felt like it needed to sacrifice itself. Maybe it wouldn’t have fallen — maybe his friends, his second family, wouldn’t have fallen to their deaths.

 

The powerful resolve he felt while piloting Atlas crumbles under the desperate determination that flows inside of him as quickly and naturally as blood does in his veins —

If Keith dies now, he can’t go on anymore, in every sense of the word.

 

He might have always known it in some way but now it’s a sentence that he repeats silently to himself, even when the worst is over and he’s by Keith’s bed in the medical ward.

 

The doctors have given Keith a good but careful prognosis, saying that he should be in deep sleep at least 24 hours and even after that he might be confused for a few days. His physical state will be back to normal as long as he gets enough rest.

 

Shiro isn’t planning on leaving his side until he absolutely has to — the garrison needs him more than ever now that team Voltron is using all its energy on recovering — and even the most crucial responsibilities have to be put on hold until Krolia gets to Earth and can be at Keith’s side.

 

Shiro can’t bear the thought of Keith waking up alone.

 

His hand trembles visibly before his eyes as he raises it to Keith’s cheek. The shards of the broken helmet barely missed his eye.

 

But he has learned that it’s a small thing — a small contusion that hurts Shiro more than it does Keith. He'd rather live with a visible crime on Keith’s face that he has inflicted than lose him completely.

 

“I’m not leaving you again,” he says to his sleeping friend but it sounds like  _ Don’t leave me _ . It isn’t his place to voice that plea though. Keith has had to wait, worry and search for him more times they both can count. Now it’s his turn and he can endure it for a while longer. “Stay put and rest as long as you need,” he continues, trying to smile even though Keith’s won’t see it. “Everyone’s okay. You’re going to be okay. Everything will be fine.”

 

At some point, he must have pressed his head down on the bed beside Keith’s arm because when he hears a faint grunt he raises his head towards Keith so fast that his stiff neck lets out a disgusting crack.

 

He bites his tongue in a mix of surprise and worry as he sees Keith blink his eyes at him. He shouldn’t be awake yet, it has barely been 15 hours— his face is a grumbling mess, clearly in pain.

 

“Hey, it’s okay, you’re safe.” Shiro’s right arm floats up to press the alert button. “You’ve got a heavy dose of medicine under your belt but if anything hurts, you’ll get more right away.”

 

“Safe?” Keith’s voice sounds like a poor replica of the familiar tone. “They safe?”

 

Shiro assumes he means their friends. “They are safe. Everyone is safe, don’t even worry about it,” he says and cups Keith’s cheek firmly, trying to ground him with his touch and voice. “Does anything hurt?”

“You safe?” Keith’s voice wavers with hesitation and his nails scratch the back of Shiro’s palm, most likely in a failed attempt to hold it. Shiro gently grasps his fingers into his prosthetic fist.

 

“Of course I am. I’m here.”

 

“Shiro…”

 

He frowns at Keith’s desperate tone. His eyes seem unfocused and he blinks them rapidly like he’s trying to stay awake.

 

“You should sleep.”

 

“No—” Keith inhales sharply. “If I— Shiro, if I die, I need to…”

 

“Keith, don’t say that. You’re okay, you just need some rest. You’re not going to die, I’ll take care of that.” It sounds false and stings Shiro in a way only an already broken promise can, but for now, he hopes Keith can find some solace in his words.

 

“When we fell,” Keith says, stumbling with this words since he seems too tired to move his mouth properly. “I didn’t care because I was falling with you.”

 

_ Oh.  _ He’s talking about that fall.

 

“Keith…”

 

“But— I’m not afraid to die. But I’m scared because I’m never going to see you again.” Shiro’s heart starts hammering against his chest like a mallet when he sees a tear in the corner of Keith’s eye. “I don’t want to die. I don’t wanna not see you.”

 

Shiro hushes him gently, interrupting his speech which is getting more and more frantic. He gently takes a hold of Keith’s face with both of his hands. He hopes his own eyes stay dry but as he watches the violet glow that is Keith’s intense gaze, he has to swallow down a watery breath.

 

“Feel this?” His human thumb presses ever so slightly on Keith’s cheekbone. “You’re not falling anymore. We are both here and neither of us is going anywhere.”

 

The urge to push the button incessantly nearly overwhelms him — the doctor still hasn’t come and it’s been 80 seconds if his rattled mind has counted correctly. This is Keith, the only hope of the universe, of Earth so everyone ought to hurry  _ the hell up. _

 

“You’re here.” There’s finally a hint of hope in Keith’s voice.

 

He chuckles out loud. “Yeah, Keith.”

 

Shiro hears footsteps down the hall so he makes a move to pull away from the bed so the doctor can have a proper check-up on Keith.

 

But.

 

Keith’s grip on his neck is so astonishingly strong and he moves so quick that Shiro doesn’t have time to process what is happening.

 

Keith pulls him against himself so that their foreheads knock together painfully.

 

Then Keith kisses him, torrid, his mouth trembling under Shiro’s lips.

 

Shiro hears how the room’s door opens but somehow it sounds distant like he has been sucked into a cave with Keith.

 

His brain that has been used to handle at least three matters at the same time — naturally, because he is a pilot — shuts down and takes its time to chew the next ten seconds.

 

Keith’s blunt nails claw the short hairs of his undercut. He has captured Shiro’s bottom lip between his teeth, then he exhales and licks attentively Shiro’s mouth.

 

Shiro’s back trembles, forced to bend down further over Keith’s body like a planet orbiting its sun. 

 

He’s quite sure he won’t be able to breathe properly ever again.

 

He hears a faint mumble behind him and when the mumble turns into a cough, he remembers that there is really no cave and that he shouldn’t even think about responding to Keith’s kiss in this kind of situation.

 

He pulls his mouth away from Keith as if he had just been touched by a burning star.

 

In a way, he was.

 

He glances at the doctor by the door and his spine goes as rigid as a pole. He can feel how every drop of blood in his body gathers up onto his face and the doctor’s extremely judgemental look doesn’t help his state at all.

 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers and Shiro rarely has heard him sound so broken.

 

He immediately forgets his embarrassment and turns back to Keith. “It’s okay,” he reassures without elaborating because everything is indeed okay, despite the fact that Keith just gave him the clumsiest, adoring kiss he has ever experienced.

 

“You shouldn’t be awake yet, Mr. Kogane.” The doctor leans over Keith’s bed and takes a look at his eyes. “Rest is your best friend right now and you shouldn’t strain yourself in any way.” While he says the word ‘strain’ he doesn’t even try to be subtle in a way he glances at Shiro.

 

Shiro chooses to stay silent. He can keep it a secret that Keith himself chose to jump on him.

 

“I don’t feel very good,” Keith says, rubbing his eyes. Then he once again looks at Shiro and Shiro finds himself speechless as he is the target of such powerful gaze.

 

Keith lets out a guttural hiccup.

 

“Ah,” the doctor says.

 

_ Ah, _ Shiro agrees.

 

The doctor has just enough time to grab a trash pin beside the bed and hand it to Keith before the paladin starts to empty his already hollow stomach. Shiro winces as he watches Keith faintly sob between vomiting and coughing.

 

He wants to gather Keith in his arms. He doesn’t want to finish the thought with “and never let go”, not even in his own mind but if there were no boundaries and responsibilities, he mostly wouldn’t let go for at least a week. 

 

He brushes Keith’s dark behind his ears, prepared to be pushed away. In the past, there have been many moments when Keith has been hurt or sick and he has chosen to lash out at Shiro if he tried to help. And Shiro never blamed him for it since it was clear Keith had gotten too used to taking care of himself.

 

This time, maybe because of the drugs or the kiss, Keith accepts his comfort. He doesn’t try to shake off Shiro’s touch and Shiro, encouraged by this, takes a hold of his hand.

 

Keith squeezes it faintly and Shiro doesn’t let go.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


+

 

  
  
  
  
  
  
Keith sleeps for two more days and Shiro barely manages to focus during the meetings. Piloting Atlas and learning more about it isn’t as hard. Atlas has the same kind of energy, presence, that the Lions have. It’s much quieter but it soothes Shiro’s worry all the same.

 

Krolia and Kolivan stay beside Keith, whether Shiro is absent or off-duty. Krolia is concerned for her son but she seems more trusting than how Shiro feels. She sits close to Keith’s bed, observing him like a mother cat — calm and concentrated.

 

Shiro smiles everytime he sees it.

 

When he himself looks at Keith’s sleeping form, he has the courage to go through feelings that he knows have been smothering his insides during all these months.

  
  


He rarely sleeps in his room — he wakes up either by his work desk or in a hospital chair.

 

After his exhausting and grandiloquent speech, he feels a bit more at peace. His steps are unusually light as he walks to Keith’s room. He sees Krolia and Kolivan speaking by the door.

 

When they see him, Krolia greets him with a wide smile.

 

“Keith woke up,” she tells him. “He stayed awake about half an hour. Your doctors told us that he’s unbelievable healthy, considering what he went through. He was asking for you.”

 

Shiro breathes out shakily and the relief is so strong that he feels like going to the closest mattress store to buy a futon, just so he could slump on to it and fall into a blissful coma.

 

He feels like the world finally started moving again.

 

“Thank god,” he can’t help but whisper.

 

Krolia’s eyes are sympathetic as she nods. “He asked about how others are doing but I only told him that the other paladins are awake and well. He doesn’t need to worry about anything else yet.”

 

“You’re right. Did you tell others he’s awake?”

 

She shakes her head. “I decided it was better to let him be for today. He’s going to have a lot of visitors.” In some strange way, Krolia appears to try and sound irritated but her happy expression is enough to tell Shiro how satisfied she is that her son has so many friends.

 

“Coran wants to speak to us for a moment so we’re heading to the lab,” Kolivan says, looking relaxed, too. “We should be back in one varga.”

 

Shiro nods.

 

“You keep an eye on him for us, Shiro.” When Shiro frowns at her in confusion, she gives him a matching frown of her own. “You are not a visitor, Shiro. You should know this by now.”

 

It’s like a gentle reminder of the words she said to him during their flight to Earth — everyone seems to know what he means to Keith, except himself.

 

A sound between a snort and chuckle escapes from Shiro’s mouth. “Right. I’m sorry.” He grins at them, feeling almost shy. “I’ll do my best to guard him.”

 

“Good,” Kolivan says with a straight face. Krolia smirks, nodding her head, before following the Blade’s leader down the empty hall.

  
  


The door to Keith’s room is ajar and Shiro slowly opens it fully in case Keith is still sleeping.

 

He is, but the way the bandage around his head sits askew and how there’s a small crumb of bread on the corner of his mouth, are the visible proof that he has indeed been awake. Shiro can almost see him grumble about his bandage and a nurse force-feeding food for him.

 

Shiro’s movements are decisive as he takes off his jacket and shoes, placing them on one of the chairs. For a long moment, he weighs his options, even though he knows he has already decided where he wants to be when Keith sees him. But he still embraces the hesitation because in this ever-changing universe nothing is certain and when it comes to people he loves, Shiro is not one to fall to reckless actions.

 

Adam once said it was both his perk and flaw.

 

Keith’s leg moves slightly and he frees space on the bed beside his sleeping body.

 

Shiro figures he might as well take that as an informal sign.

 

He slides himself on the bed, not under the covers but still so close to Keith. The way his left leg hangs off the edge doesn’t bother him at all, not when he can feel Keith breathing against his chest and enjoy the warmth that is almost pulsing from his body.

 

He lets his Altean arm rest by the foot of the bed since it’s big size would take up too much space. He feels tired beyond words but despite that, his eyes don’t even flutter, too keen on watching Keith.

 

The setting sun makes his black hair look almost dark brown and his incredibly long eyelashes give him an ethereal look.

 

Bruised, scarred, awake, in sleep — no matter what, Keith always looks beautiful to Shiro.

 

Shiro’s finger entwines itself around Keith’s own and the rest of his digits follow the example. When he strokes the back of Keith’s with his thumb, Keith stirs.

 

Shiro immediately feels guilty for waking him.

 

“Shiro?” Keith’s raspy voice asks.

 

“It’s me.”

 

Indigo eyes lock onto his own and when Keith turns his head slightly to properly see Shiro, their noses are merely two inches apart.

 

An endearing faint flush covers the skin of Keith’s cheeks, the scar also turning a shade darker.

 

“Hi,” Shiro simply says.

 

“You’re here.” It sounds like a question.

 

Shiro rolls his eyes, amused. “I was always here. Don’t be so surprised.”

 

“You can’t blame me,” the paladin shoots back, a bit of fire in his voice.

 

“You’re right,” Shiro admits. “Sorry.”

 

Keith looks at their clasped hands and there’s a spark in his eyes — not exactly visible but Shiro can feel it.

 

“You kissed me,” he tenderly says. Keith bites his lip, hard, so he chooses to say a bit more, “If I was as wise as before, I would assume that it was all because of the meds. Everything you said and how you said it. But I know you, Keith.” His hand might be getting sweaty but he doesn’t release Keith’s fingers. He sighs deeply. “I know what you sound like when you talk about something that hurts you.”

 

Keith eyes blink at him and then he’s shaking his head. “You’re wrong.”

 

“I am?” Shiro draws away his hand, an ice-cold feeling licking its way inside his chest. It only gets stronger when Keith doesn’t protest but turns his back on Shiro and makes himself as small on the bed as he can.

 

He’s between a rock and a hard place. Staying by Keith’s side is his rock. Making Keith uncomfortable, misreading his actions and troubling him while he is recovering because Shiro wanted his own feelings to be required, is his hard place.

 

He doesn’t know which one he wants to break so he could flee.

 

“For the most part, you're wrong.” Keith’s words make him pause in his upcoming panic attack. “Just… listen to me for a while, Shiro?”

 

It’s a definite question.

 

“Anything you want,” Shiro immediately answers.

 

“You’re wrong about you hurting me,” Keith speaks into his pillow as if he’s hiding. “But in a way you’re right. Worrying about you hurts me. Seeing how you treat yourself, what you think about yourself, listening to you apologize to me over and over again, no matter how many times I ask you to stop because there’s nothing to apologize for — that probably hurts me the most. And the truth is that I love you because and despite all of those things.”

 

Shiro lets Keith keep the silence around them for a while. He doesn’t dare to breathe and he squeezes his eyes shut because he feels like looking straight at Keith’s rawness and sincerity might blind him.

 

Meanwhile, his ears are eager to devour every word Keith says next.

 

“The scar… the one he gave me…”

 

Now Shiro can’t help opening his eyes and he finds Keith already watching him.

 

“It only hurts when you touch it.” Shiro isn’t sure if he means it literally — Keith’s expression is hard to read.

 

“Why do you let me touch it then?”

 

Keith’s eyelashes flutter like butterfly’s wings. His swallow is painfully audible but the determination is like a flame in his eyes as he meets Shiro’s eyes.

 

“Because I love you.” He pauses, then touches Shiro’s hand, bringing their palms back against each other. “Why do you touch it so often?”

 

No question in his life has ever been so easy. “Because it hurts me too. Because I love you.”

 

“Shiro,” Keith whispers and grabs the hem of Shiro’s shirt.

 

Shiro leans in, only a bit so he can give a soft kiss to the scarred cheek. It’s warm and feels even silkier under his lips.

 

Keith lets out a short breath.

 

“Does it hurt?”

 

Keith nods and the way he looks at Shiro makes him feel like he is something more than just a ghost of a man he used to be — like he is whole.

 

“Do you mind if I stay?”

 

“Stay.” Keith moves closer to his side and Shiro welcomes him with arms open wider and another kiss on the cheek, this time lingering for several seconds.

 

After few minutes of Keith’s breath against Shiro’s neck, the serene silence enveloping them into a cocoon, Shiro speaks out, whispering, in case Keith is already asleep. “When Voltron fell, my heart stopped. I realized then that whenever you’re not around, I have no home. I might have a purpose, I can get by, but you make it worth it.”

 

He feels Keith lift his chin, glancing at him.

 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been the same constant rock in your life and that you have always felt like you had to find me; save me.” He thinks about his capture, death, fight with Sendak. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Shiro,” Keith gives him a peck on his neck. “You’re one of the few constants I have in my life. And wherever you go, I’ll find you. I’m good at that.”

 

“The best, I might add.” Shiro gives him a wide grin. He nudges Keith’s nose with his own. “I love you, Keith. Whatever happens.”

 

Keith’s answers by kissing him, this time slowly and thoroughly.

 

The universe never stops changing but for now, they have time.

 

 

 

 


End file.
